


Running Water

by thefirstwaltz



Category: Fruits Basket, Fruits Basket (Anime), Fruits Basket - Takaya Natsuki (Manga)
Genre: Bathing/Washing, F/M, God Bless modern utilities
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-06-11
Updated: 2010-07-22
Packaged: 2018-03-08 10:06:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3205289
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thefirstwaltz/pseuds/thefirstwaltz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tohru and Yuki experience the worst morning ever recorded on the face of the planet. After all, life is full of surprises. Yukiru, of course.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Part I

**Author's Note:**

> My shortest -- and fluffiest -- fic. Have fun!

It had been horrendously, ridiculously,  _painfully_  early in the morning when Tohru surfaced from her bed and stumbled to shower. Shigure-san, Kyo-kun, and Sohma-kun assumed that Tohru was a morning person because of the sheer energy she exerted coaxing them from their beds. It was quite the opposite. The brunette was similar to Yuki when she woke up. Of course, this was about two hours before anyone else in the house had stirred. Tohru had soon realized that if she was going to get everything done that she needed to before going to school, she would have to wake up earlier than anyone was really meant to. By the time any of the Sohmas were lucid enough to judge her character, she was as bright and relentless as the sun.

And what was her secret? The longest hot shower known to humanity and a bracing cup of tea drank unorthodoxly at boiling temperature. So it was quite to her dismay when she twisted the taps and was supplied with the far-off groan of a dead pipe.  _Don't panic,_  she thought,  _They must be frozen. In August._ Calmly, she tested the sink and reached the same result. Twist, clunk, groan, silence.  _Alright, maybe Sohma-kun kicked Kyo-kun through the piping last night and the upstairs is cut off._  After confirming that the downstairs wasn't working either, the brunette sank to the floor, leaning against a wall. At least the ground still worked. That was a start. And gravity, too.  _Now, where is the water?_

A sick feeling like a rotten orange was sitting in her stomach as the teenager slipped into Shigure's office and began rifling through the detritus around his desk. After a couple of minutes of fruitless hunting, Tohru found a rumpled letter jammed inside of a porn magazine as a bookmark. She glared at the address, then ripped it open to read the bill inside. She dropped the porn magazine and stood, nodding to herself. Yep. He'd forgotten to pay the utilities bill again. She fingered a clump of her mussed brown hair, gauging its cleanliness and sighed. Ah, well.  _Alright, move on. Start breakfast going._ As if by instinct, the brown-eyed girl swung into the kitchen, skipping over the stack of newspapers to be recycled, and flicked the light switch. Nothing. She paused in the dark, sucking in her breath to keep from screaming.

Five more minutes of searching in Shigure's office revealed the unpaid electricity bill.

Okay, no shower. No tea. No light.

She gave up and went to rouse Sohma-kun. If she got started now, he might be mobile in the next hour. But that was when the lights were on and it wasn't winter. The brunette scaled the stairs in the gloom, brushing her fingertips along the wall to keep her bearing. A long time ago, when she was really little, she would be scared of the stairs at night. She didn't like the sounds they made—the ones outside of their old home were metal and creaked in the wind—and would tell her mother with a straight face that the world was so hungry that at night its stomach growled, threatening to swallow her and her mother whole. Tohru smiled at the darkness, feeling the ghost of her mother's hands on her shoulders. Sometimes, the darkness was more forgiving than the daylight.

The brunette paused outside of Sohma-kun's door, tracing the wood grain down to the doorknob. It was comforting in the dark, where she could be by herself and her thoughts. When she was alone, her mother was just close enough to touch. She shook her head at the darkness, the door, the silliness of turning to it for balance, and quietly slipped into the rat's room.

He was an awkward sleeper. It was a funny thing to think about, especially since Yuki was such a graceful person when he was awake. But there was no doubt that he slept like he was trying to settle down on a bed of jagged glass. His arms were lifted to cushion his face, his legs splayed apart to access as much cool sheet as possible. He slept with his neck bent forward so that he seemed to be praying while running. And his countenance shifted as his mind shifted through dreams, sometimes placid and sometimes distressed. It was a little unfair that a boy who was plagued by demons had to sleep in their company.

Tohru shook his shoulder, trying to muster a bright voice for Yuki at least, "Sohma-kun! It's time to wake up!"

He tensed, burying his face in his arms further away from the impending Switching On of the Lights. What woke him up was the lack of Switching On. The silver-haired teenager sat up, rubbing away the face his dreams had left him to wear, and glared at the darkness. A hand suddenly came into sight on his knee, seeming to catch the blurry, pearly light and reflect it. Tohru's voice said in a lackluster voice, "Sorry that it's so dark, Sohma-kun. Shigure-san's forgotten the electricity again."

Yuki groaned, his eyes trying to outline the shape of the girl he knew so well. His mind screamed, cogs going too fast too quickly. He meant for a wry comment to pop out about Shigure forgetting where he buried his bones, but instead he barely managed a shaky, "…Shower."

The hand seemed to tighten around his knee. Her voice again, this time even less luminous, "He's forgotten the water bill too."

This was grounds for public execution. No one,  _no one_ , could have possibly broke worse news on Sohma Yuki. If Kyo had tried it, he would have been up against the wall with his shoulder and elbow being dislocated simultaneously within nanoseconds. Shigure was going to  _die_. To soften the blow, the brunette hastily added, "But it was really my fault! I should have checked that the bills were being paid."

"Mrgh, no….shower?"

"I'm so, so sorry."

There was a dangerous silence as the concept continued to sink into Yuki's conscience, passing through sleepy dura mater. It didn't seem to quite puncture through before the rat dragged his limbs off of his bed one by one and shuffled past Tohru with his head nodding forward languidly. Afraid to touch him, the brunette waited with bated breath as he padded down the hallway, occasionally bumping into the wall as he attempted to enter a theoretical door that he had assumed would be there. His seventh try he ended up in the bathroom. Tohru winced as she heard it: twist, groan, clunk, silence.

It was good five minutes before Yuki finally understood. It was another two seconds for him to attempt to kill Shigiure in his sleep. He would have succeeded too if it weren't for the fact that the place where Shigure's door was supposed to be was exactly five feet to the left of Shigure's door. Yuki stormed with frigid, murderous rage into a wall.

Some time later, he and Tohru stood shoulder to shoulder in the kitchen, contemplating what could be done. There was always the option of sending Shigure to the utilities offices with a black eye - Yuki's suggestion – and the proper amount of money to pay the bill pinned to his hakama like lunch money attached to a kindergartener. Then Tohru pointed out how unlikely it was that Shigure would make it to the utilities office without stopping and spending the money on the way. There was the pond farther back in the forest. They could lug water in from there and heat it for a bath. Yuki eyed the brunette and hastily tried to think of a different idea. The last thing he wanted Tohru to do was put forty pounds of water on her back. Tohru had a similar objection – who knew how much heavy-lifting Yuki could do without invoking the Bronchial Tube Wrath of Doom. The solution was unavoidable. They would have to bathe in the pond. With the sun coming up, it would have to be soon, or else they might be seen by some freak accident (which seemed to happen more often than normal accidents to the Sohma family and Honda Tohru). And maybe, with the darkness, they might not even see each other.

It was a sad substitute for the – Blessed be its name – Hot Morning Shower, but it would have to do.


	2. Part II

Soap, shampoo, and towels in hand, the two ventured into the forest while pretending the other person wasn't there. Yuki had considered hugging Tohru and changing into a rat to bathe simply to relieve the brunette of inevitable embarrassment. Tohru had thought the same thing, but then she made the connection that when Yuki was a rat, he was naked – an idea she hadn't delved into before. She started humming to cover the thought. This was neither the place nor time for embarrassment. So the idea went without true consideration.

They reached the pond together, standing barely a foot apart, shoulder to shoulder. They stared wide-eyed at each other for a moment, very determinately trying not to attempt conversation and thoroughly sound like a dork or Shigure. Then Yuki suddenly turned and strode away, blurting, "I'll just-…"

"And I guess I'll-…" Tohru called after him, completing their combined success at sounding like a dork.

Well then. To work. And ignore the man behind the curtain. Tohru stripped to her underwear and waded into the pond until she was waist-deep. She lathered up her hair, fingers sprawling on her scalp. Was it the man behind the curtain or the man in the closet? Her hands did the work for her. Tohru had the secret ability to wash her hair perfectly. She drew out all the dead hair and kept her scalp clean painlessly. It was yet another skill her mother had taught her when Tohru had insisted on growing her hair out.

Yuki was having no such luck. His hair – also grown out by weeks of indifference – liked to tangle with things. Buttons, branches, fingers… The list was never-ending. Today's victim happened to be a wet plant of some kind that had been transferred to his hair when he was rinsing it. Cackling wickedly, his hair had pounced with silver claws gleaming. He pulled at the plant impatiently. He could almost hear Tohru calling out, worried, "Sohma-kun, it's been half an hour. Kyo-kun will be up soon. Do you need help?" And then – oh please God, no – coming after him. The last thing he needed was to be naked except for his boxers cursing at nothing while tugging some indescribable goo out of his hair in front of a girl he… he… Well, whatever. It would be bad.

He gave up on the plant, swearing by every fiber in his being that he would cut it out of his hair – hell, all of his hair if it was required- as soon as he was home, and quickly finished scrubbing down. He waited a couple of minutes, idly drying off. If he walked back to where Tohru was before she was finished… He blushed, feeling all the eyes of the forest focus on him to witness his descent into lechery. He cradled his head in his hands. It was such an easy slope to slip down. Especially when life provided him with thousands of banana peels around the edge.

He'd long ago gotten used to living with a girl in the house. In fact, most of the time, it was hard to even think of Tohru as a girl. Okay, practically every molecule in his being was electric with the knowledge that Tohru was a girl, but she wasn't a  _girl_. Not like the balloon-brains who bobbed around him at school, all airy gossip about nothing. He slowly began to walk back towards where Tohru was.

No, Tohru wasn't a girl. She was something better, something beautifully intricate yet simple. The Golden Rectangle in the petals of a flower, its delicate leaves and stem giving way to strong roots that firmly held it to Earth. But the true beauty of the flower floated above the earth, heart full of sky and sun. The silver-haired teen smacked the side of his head with his hand. It was too early for extended metaphors.

Tohru, meanwhile, was just pulling her blouse back over her hair when she spotted Yuki wandering toward her, still in his boxers. His gray eyes were focused elsewhere, but they soon settled on the brunette, zeroing in on her as he reached speaking distance. Yuki said almost too cheerfully, "Are you ready to go, Honda-san?"

"….Yuki-kun?"

He studied her downcast eyes and pink face. Was the goo that noticeable? He replied, "Yes?"

"Your pants."

"Yes?"

"You forgot your pants."

Suddenly, the goo was the least of his problems.

It wasn't like Tohru hadn't seen Yuki's boxers before. Or, in fact, Yuki naked before. The curse had swiftly dealt with the latter, and laundry duties to the former. There was just a natural disconnect between person and underwear. It is a human ambition to see as little of one's acquaintances in their underwear as possible. To see them in their underwear does bad things to a person's mind. Tohru's had to be resuscitated.

"I'll just –" He said, backing away, as if not to startle her.

"I'll-see-you-back-at-the-house-breakfast-if-I-can-bye-Yuki-kun!"

There was a minute of silence as Yuki slowly tried to unfreeze parts of his body so he could at least put his pants on. But the horror of it all had tensed every muscle into a taut mass of ropes. It wasn't until the sun bleached the lovely violets from the sky that he was able to stumble his way back to Shigure's house.

Tohru had given up on cooking breakfast. If Shigure couldn't provide water and electricity, then she couldn't provide hot food. Simple as that. She reached far back into the cupboard and drew out an aged cereal box. The brunette stared at it for a moment, shook her head, and bravely stuck her hand into the open box.

A few minutes later, after practically boiling her hand with hot water and anti-bacterial soap and deducing that whatever was inside the cereal box was not suited for eating (or even composting), Tohru settled in with some yogurt. She heard Yuki enter the house and venture upstairs to get dressed. She hoped he wasn't too embarrassed. It would be dreadful if he would never meet her eyes again. She couldn't imagine –

And that was the moment that Honda Tohru, hair still dripping pond water down her back, realized that she was in love with Sohma Yuki.


	3. Part III

This was ridiculous. Someone couldn't just  _realize_  that they were in love with someone else. It didn't work like that. There were steps,  _processes_ , events that people had to experience first. Tohru scraped her spoon around the yogurt carton listlessly. She'd been well educated in fairy tales and soap operas by her mother like any girl should be. This was no way to fall in love with a person. Absolutely unorthodox. She wouldn't  _stand_  for it. She stuck the spoon in her mouth, brown eyes unfocused on the light switch that didn't work.

Now that she thought about it, there were events. There were events that might have been steps, maybe even processes if you wanted to look at it like that. The fact that she could remember the tiniest of details from the White Day Yuki-kun gave her the ribbon to the day he and she went to Ayame's boutique was proof enough. She finished the yogurt and went to wash the carton out, drifting from the dining area to the kitchen like a boat being swayed by current. So why had it taken her so long? Maybe it was the way he looked at her, his gray eyes more complex than any dysfunctional family, perhaps even his.

No, that wasn't it. The way he spoke to her, that slight hesitation before her name that suggested that he intended to say it differently; an intimate waver to the suffix as though it had been added as an afterthought? Maybe, maybe all this time she'd been waiting for him to just not think anymore so that there would be no afterthought. She dropped the rinsed carton into the proper recyclable can, turning to climb the stairs. It was nearly time to get Kyo-kun and Shigure-san up. He certainly hadn't been thinking this morning. Nobody can think and forget their pants.

Suddenly it struck her. Like Tohru, Yuki was most like himself in the morning. Their morning rituals – the tea, the shower, the alarm clocks, the lights – were ways of thinking more, preparing to think all day. When someone wasn't thinking, they acted automatically, acted how they would if they weren't scared or worried. Which meant, if it wasn't too late…

Tohru quickened her pace and skidded to a halt outside of Yuki's closed door. She didn't think he'd heard an alarm clock yet. Not waiting to knock, she opened the door slowly, asking, "Yuki-kun?"

He was flopped face-down on his bed, pillow and comforter piled on top of his head. He said something from beneath the bedding, something that sounded like, "Am I wearing pants?"

"I think you are."

Yuki sat up, pulling the bedding away from his face to look apologetically at his housemate. But before he could begin to thoroughly explain himself like any true human being should when exposing their friend to their scantily clad body, Tohru said quietly, "What do you think about love?"

"Love?"

He ran a hand through his hair, blinking in surprise as the plant finally came free in his palm. He continued, "I think love is love. Is there…"

The silver-haired boy trailed off, seeing Tohru's face. She was bright pink, eyes flitting around to focus on anything except him. He wasn't giving the right answer. He picked up, "I think love is unexpected, inexplicable, and confounding."

"So you wouldn't be all that surprised if it just… happened to you?"

"No, I guess not."

Tohru bit her lip. Here was the opportunity right in front of her, and she still wasn't so sure. But this was a day without morning showers. It called for spontaneous behavior. She added, eyes finally settling on Yuki, "So it wouldn't surprise you if I… I mean. If I loved…"

Okay, so she couldn't finish the sentence. Instead, she motioned to Yuki pathetically.

What had been the girl who… That girl he… Whatever. That had suddenly become something much less whatever. Yuki leaned forward, hand wiping the plant onto his bed as it slid to touch Tohru's. He said, "A little bit. Would it surprise you if I… To you…"

He made a frustrated noise and shrugged. There was no saying it. The horrible feeling of Dork struck again. He looked down at the goo on his bed. Maybe it wasn't a plant. Maybe it was his ability to form sentences down there.

Tohru's face was so red that Yuki almost expected her to whistle and steam to come from her ears. He'd had little exposure to television as a child, but in the rare cases when he'd be plonked down to watch an educational program about something or other, he'd make his move. The ceaseless arguing of his parents in the other room like New York City traffic, he'd quietly switch channels. Ah, bliss. Tom and Jerry: a show where the rat (mouse, but close enough) always won. Now, Tohru's hot face seeming to fall into his, he tried to remember if the steam meant anger or love.

Then, because all thought processes are interrupted, not concluded, Yuki found himself thinking about something else entirely.

Shaking, his hand lifted to touch her cheek to make sure it was really there, really her. Really Honda Tohru kissing him. It didn't really occur to him how the world melted away, how the air was a fragrant delicacy upon which he feasted. He was more concerned with kissing the girl he'd loved ever since she smiled at him with her eyes and said, "It's all right, Sohma-kun.  _You're_  all right."

So maybe none of that happened because he wasn't looking for it. But Tohru was. She broke the kiss and let the delicious pent-up breath that every kiss needs go. Then she gulped that breath back as Yuki did the same thing barely an inch away. He let his fall forward, touching their foreheads together and making his silver eyes meet hers. It was obvious from his gaze that he didn't have a clue what he was doing. Then again, neither did Tohru. She whispered, hand rising to rest on his on her cheek, "I guess we keep surprising each other until one of us expects it."

Yuki sighed, turning his hand and clasping hers, letting it drop to the bed. He seemed to feel the weight of her hand laced with his, a smile tinting his lips. He replied, "I don't think I'll ever expect something from you. Well, maybe one thing."

Her eyes were two brilliant, blooming questions in front of his; two gleaming glimpses into a future lit with surprises and electricity and maybe a hot shower or two in the morning.

"What?"

He tilted his face, eyes still locked on hers.

"Unexpected, inexplicable, confounding love."


End file.
